Magic Hands
by Sharkdiver1980
Summary: Anastasia Steele gets the surprise of her life when she is sent to Esclava to complete her Massage school practical, thinking she will be stuck rubbing down some old rich guy, when instead she finds non other than hot billionaire CEO Christian Grey on her table.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Fifty Shades Trilogy, but I'd love to own Christian Grey!**

 **AN: this was just a funny idea that came to me…not sure where this will go, though I don't expect this will be an epic length fic or anything. I'm still thinking of all my other works, but I have to work on whatever strikes me.**

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"You'll do fine, stop worrying!" Kate said for the millionth time through the phone as Ana's knee bounced up and down nervously.

"What if I fail? This counts for fifty percent of my grade!" Ana whined as she peered around the staff room in the back of the salon.

"You're not going to fail. You're good at what you do, just try to relax." Kate said soothingly in her best attempt at talking Anna down

Ana huffed loudly, "What if I'm too rough? Knowing my luck, I'll end up assigned to some jerk who would just love to complain about getting a free massage. Either that, or it'll be the old guy with the questionable skin condition."

Kate snorted, "Well, questionable skin conditions aside, just do your best. I know you're good at this, I've been your guinea pig for the last year, remember?"

Ana blew out the breath that she had been holding, "You're right. It'll be fine."

Just then, the owner of salon where Ana had been told she would be taking her practical, stepped into the staff room with her arms folded over her chest expectantly.

"I have to go Kate, wish me luck!" Ana whispered quickly before ending the call and slipping her phone back into her pocket.

"Anastasia Steele?"

"Yes, that's me." Ana said quickly, taking a step towards the frowning blond woman who was clearly in the middle of judging her based on her appearance.

"Your appointment has arrived. He's in room ten." The woman, who had introduced herself simply as 'Elena', said sharply as Ana nodded and began to head towards the staff room door.

"Oh and Miss Steele? He's a _very_ important client here at Esclava. Make sure he's satisfied; because if he's not, I'll be speaking with your instructor."

"Of course" Ana said quickly, forcing herself to keep the polite smile firmly in place lest she roll her eyes at the woman's high handedness.

"Best not keep him waiting, then." The woman snapped before turning on her heels and striding from the room.

 _Ugh. Probably some old rich guy then._

Ana had already changed into the customary short black dress that all the employees wore at Esclava; and pulled her hair back into a messy French twist held up by a clip she stole from Kate on her way out that morning. Despite her chosen profession, she couldn't imagine having to actually _work_ in a place like this; it screamed 'pretentious'. Becoming a massage therapist was something she decided she wanted to do out of a deep sense of wanting to help people on a physical as well as spiritual level; after reading a book about the healing power of touch, she came to understand that sensory therapy has been found to significantly improve the lives of those not only suffering from physical injuries, but those with emotional ones as well.

As she approached the door to room ten along the dimly lit hallway, she gave a soft knock to be sure her client was ready.

"Enter", came a male voice.

The room was dark, which was normal for an upscale spa such as this, with soft soothing flute music flowing in through mounted speakers on the wall. It took her a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low light, as her eyes made out the shape of a male body lying face down on the massage table, his lower half covered by the crisp linen sheet. From what she could see, he was much younger than what she had been expecting, and _very_ toned.

She took her place in front of him, as she grasped the bottle of massage oil and coated her hands to warm it before running her fingers along his neck.

" _Mmmmm_." He groaned as soon as she began exerting medium pressure with her thumbs from the base of his skull and out towards his shoulders. She had to bite back a smirk as she continued; silently thanking God that he had neither psoriasis, nor back acne.

She continued working her hands down his back until she reached the bed sheet.

"Keep going." He said suddenly, startling her for a moment and making her freeze with her hands on his lower back.

"I'm sorry?" she said softly suddenly nervous that she had done something wrong.

"I said keep going." He repeated, not bothering to lift his head.

Her heart began to pound in her chest. He wanted her to massage his _ass_?

Knowing that she had only seconds to make a decision, she decided to go for it and pulled the sheet further down exposing his backside to her.

It was perfect. His ass was _perfect_.

She added another dab of massage oil to her hands, and placed them once more at his lower back as she slowly worked them lower, kneading his ass cheeks with her hands, and trying not to let the absurd thought take root in her brain that yes, if she were in fact a fully licensed massage therapist, she would be getting paid to rub a hot guy's ass cheeks.

She continued down his legs, paying special attention to his calves and finally his feet. She had to bite the inside of her cheek when she swiped her thumb over the sole of his foot, and he jerked his foot away from her with a snort.

He was apparently ticklish too.

"Sorry" he muttered quickly, most likely embarrassed.

"It happens all the time." She lied, hoping it would help him relax.

Once she finished his other leg, she worked her way back up, smirking to herself as she once again massaged his ass and up his back. She gently extended his arm across her lap, and worked her fingers over his bicep, down towards his elbow, continuing down to his hand. Holding his hand gently in hers, she rubbed and soothed each finger, and then began to move back up his arm.

As she reached his shoulder, she felt his fingers begin to move over the skin of her outer thigh. At first, she thought it was merely a reflex as she worked certain muscle groups, but no; he was definitely _stroking_ her thigh.

She had another mini freak out about what to do, until she reached down and removed his hand from her leg and placed it back against his body as she moved to the other side, choosing not to acknowledge his forwardness.

Once she finished massaging his other side, she instructed him to turn over so that she could continue. She had heard stories from a few of her classmates about how men could sometimes become aroused during a massage, but she had personally never experienced that, until _today_ that is.

As he settled back into position on the massage table, her eyes were immediately drawn to the large bulge hidden just below the sheet.

 _Holy fuck._

She averted her eyes, deciding that now would be a very good time to add more oil to her hands. She grasped the bottle of oil in her hands and let out a shaky breath, as she squirted some of it into her palm.

 _Keep it together, Steele_.

When she looked down at his face, her heart skidded to a stop.

 _Oh my god._

Lying on the table with a rather impressive erection was none other than Christian Grey, the Billionaire CEO of Grey Enterprises, Holdings. The very _same_ Christian Grey that she had fantasized about on more than a few occasions while she got herself off.

"Is there a problem?" she heard him say as she suddenly noticed he was staring directly at her, while she gazed at him stupidly.

"N…No…Um, are there any areas in particular that you would like for me to focus on?" she asked mentally willing herself to _not_ look at his huge erection.

The corner of his lips twitched knowingly, as he watched her bite her lip in embarrassment, "My quads."

She blushed, giving a quick nod, and moved down the length of the table so that she was standing beside his waist. Trying to be as professional as possible, she moved the sheet up from his feet, careful to keep his crotch covered, and began to massage his upper thighs.

"Mmmmm…"

When he groaned again, she pressed her thighs together and bit her lip, unable to stop thinking about how _else_ she could get him to make noises like that. She was pretty sure these last thirty minutes would be enough to fuel her fantasies for _months_.

As she used her thumbs to knead his quads, she was keenly aware that his still hard cock was mere _inches_ away from her hand. Try as she might, she couldn't _not_ look at it.

As her eyes shifted away from the impressive bulge hidden just below the sheet, she inhaled sharply when she noticed he was watching her, the corners of his lips turned up into a smirk.

 _Fuck. He totally caught me staring at his cock._

"What's your name?"

 _Oh God. He's going to report me. Shit!_

"Um…Ana…Anastasia Steele." She said quickly, making it a point to focus on what she was _supposed_ to be doing.

"I've never seen you here before. Are you new?" He asked, still watching her intently.

"Uh, no…I'm still a student. This is my Practical." She answered, not sure if she should be engaging in conversation with him, considering he was here for a massage.

"You're being graded on this?" he asked again, his eyebrow quirking up in amusement.

"Yes. Did I pass?" she answered cheekily, glancing up at him shyly from beneath her lashes as she continued to massage him.

"Well that all depends, Anastasia…" he said giving her a look that made her clit throb.

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as she stared at him, wondering if he could possibly be implying what she hoped he was.

"On?" she questioned breathily, as she imagined several different scenarios in her head, all of which involved him fucking her over this massage table.

"On whether or not you choose to accept my offer."

 _Wait, what?_

"Offer?" she asked questioningly

"I'd like to hire you."

She blinked in surprise, "But I haven't got my license yet…" she answered as she moved her hands down to his foot once again.

"A minor detail that can be worked out. _I want you_."

 _Holy fucking shit._ _I want you too, Mister Grey…_

"Ok." was all she could manage as her heart beat wildly in her chest. Was this really happening? Had the most gorgeous man on the planet really just asked her to be his personal masseuse?

"Good."

As the massage came to an end, she pulled the sheet back down to cover his legs and feet, feeling both elated that he had offered her a job, and slightly disappointed that he hadn't asked for a happy ending…not that she'd ever considered giving one before.

"I'll be right outside with some water, whenever you're ready, Mister Grey." She said in what she hoped was a seductive tone, and slipped out the door, willing her heart to slow its frantic beating. Christ on a cracker that man was hot!

When the door opened a few moments later, her breath caught in her throat at how sexy he looked in a suit and tie. Sure she had seen photos of him like this, but none of them had done him any justice as he stepped towards her to take the bottle of Fiji water she offered. As he grasped the bottle in her hand, his fingers danced purposefully over her knuckles, and she bit down on her bottom lip as a pulse of desire coursed through her.

"I'm staying at the Heathman for the week. I'd like for you to come by tonight around seven; we can get the paperwork out of the way, and then I can show you _exactly_ what I want." He said as he handed her his business card.

She nodded dumbly, still too aroused to speak, and tucked the card in her pocket.

"You have no idea how many massage parlors I've been to in the Portland area… _Where have you been_?"

"In school…" she whispered.

He guzzled the last of his water like a starved, or in this case a _parched_ , man, and winked at her before he turned and walked down the hall towards the lobby, and out of sight.

Not only had he left her completely sexually frustrated, she realized belatedly, that he hadn't even _tipped_ her, the fucker.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Fifty Shades Trilogy, but I'd love to own Christian Grey!**

 **AN: and here is chapter two! Please leave a review and tell me what you think so far!**

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"So how'd it go? Did you get stuck with a Richard Branson?" Kate asked chuckling as Ana stepped through the door and shrugged off her sweater.

"Uh, no actually…" Ana said biting back a smirk as she thought about Christian's huge erection for the millionth time in under an hour.

"So a woman then?" Kate asked arching an eyebrow at Ana, trying to decipher the smirk that was playing on her lips, "Is there something you're not telling me Ana Banana?" Kate chuckled.

"Kate, I just had Christian Sex-On-Legs Grey, _naked_ , on my table."

"Holy Fuck."

"My thoughts, exactly." Ana said biting her lip as she leaned back against the door, clutching her sweater to her chest.

"And you got to _touch_ him?" Kate asked in awe, grabbing Ana's arms and practically shaking her.

"Touch him, stroke him…rub _oil_ on him…" Ana sighed happily, recalling just how perfect his body felt under her hands.

"Holy Fuck."

"You already said that." Ana pointed out chuckling

"It needed to be emphasized. Maybe you'll get lucky and Esclava will hire you after you get your license?" Kate said hopefully.

"Screw Esclava…he offered me a _job_! I'm meeting him tonight at the Heathman to go over all the details."

"Did you tell him you don't have your license yet?" Kate asked with a concerned look. Clearly, she didn't want her to get her hopes up.

"I did, He said it was a minor detail…He said he _wants_ me." Ana answered unable to contain her goofy grin.

"Holy Fuck."

 **ooOo0oOoo**

By six-thirty that night, Ana felt like she was a ball of nerves as she walked the few blocks down from her flat towards the Heathman. Not only was Christian Grey the hottest man she had ever laid eyes (and hands) on, he was also voted People's Sexiest Man Alive. The man had a way of making her feel like she was a walking clitoris, ready to explode if he so much as _looked_ at her. Not only that, she was meeting him in his hotel suite, so she didn't even have the benefit of knowing they were in a professional environment where there were other people nearby…they would be completely alone. With a bed. And a shower. And a carpet. And _walls_ …

She arrived at the Heathman right on time, and after giving her name at the front desk, she was instructed to go right up to the penthouse.

The fucking _Penthouse_.

Her hands here shaking when she stepped out of the elevator, and lifted her hand to knock on his door. She sucked in a breath when the door was suddenly yanked open to reveal a half-naked, and _wet_ Christian.

Words. She needed to speak them.

"Oh, sorry…I…the front desk said it was alright to come up…I can come back another time?"

 _Please don't send me away… please don't send me away…_

"Miss Steele. I apologize, I am running a bit behind schedule, but please make yourself comfortable while I put some clothes on."

"No clothes… _I mean_ …no worries." She said stupidly, and winced.

 _Smooth, Steele. Real smooth._

The corner of his lips twitched at her Freudian slip, and he stepped aside to allow her in.

His suite was everything she imagined it would be; wall to wall floor to ceiling windows with an open floor plan, and tastefully furnished.

Her eyes fell on the large king size bed, and immediately imagined all manner of kinky fuckery she would like to do with him in it.

"Have you eaten? I can order something if you're hungry?" he called from what she supposed was probably the bathroom.

 _Oh, I'm hungry, but not for food, Mister Grey._

"Sure, I could eat" she answered; careful to leave off the 'you' that mentally came at the end of that sentence.

A few minutes later, he stepped out of the bathroom barefoot, wearing a pair of distressed jeans and a navy blue tee shirt, and her mouth physically watered.

He picked up the phone beside his bed, and ordered food before he finally turned his attention back to her.

"The food will be up shortly, but I have some paperwork for you to look over if you want to start with that." He said pointing over to the elegant table and chairs that was on the opposite end of the large room.

Ana walked over to where a stack of papers sat neatly on the table, and her eyes darted up to his after quickly scanning the contents.

"This is a non-disclosure agreement…" she said giving him a confused look.

"Yes, I'm afraid my lawyer insists on it." He said simply, not bothering to explain.

She picked up the next packet of papers just behind it, which was clearly a contract, and began to look it over

…The following are the terms of a binding contract…blah blah blah…the undersigned shall be provided room and board, and provide services seven days a week on an as-needed basis…

Whoa… _What?_

"You expect me to _move in_ with you?" she squeaked in surprise.

Christian chuckled, "Well, it seems a bit inconvenient to have you on the other side of town if I need you in a hurry."

She groaned inwardly, squeezing her thighs together at his words, _If I need you in a hurry…_

"And what If I have plans?" she asked, biting her lip as she looked up at him from beneath her lashes.

"I want you to be ready for me at all times."

 _Fuck._

"I…I can do that." She stammered, idly wondering if he could tell how wet her panties were at that very moment.

"Aren't you at all curious about the benefits?" he asked, his eyes dropping to her mouth as he took a step closer.

 _If you're paying me in orgasms, I'm completely fine with that._

"Yes…" she breathed, holding her breath in anticipation

Before he could answer, there was a knock on the door.

Oh right, the food.

She ran a shaky hand through her hair as he turned his back to her to answer the door, and she took the opportunity to get herself under control. Here he was being completely professional, while she was lusting over him like a perverted weirdo. She grabbed the pen off of the table and quickly signed the NDA as well as the contract without bothering to read any more. She knew she wasn't about to say ' _no_ ' to Christian Grey. If he wanted a massage at 1am, then she would be more than ready to give it to him.

He walked back over in time to see her setting down the pen, as he placed the tray of food on the table, and picked up the papers to look them over to make sure everything was in order.

After a few agonizing moments, he set them aside, and turned his full attention back to her.

"I'd like to fuck you now."

Ok, so not as professional as she thought.

She blinked up at him, thinking that she must've mis-heard, but when he stepped closer to her, and pulled her against his taut body, she realized there was no mistake… _what the hell had she just agreed to?_

"Anastasia tell me what you want." He said huskily as his lips grazed her neck, slowly sliding the straps of her tank top off of her shoulders.

"I…uh…I…." she couldn't even form a coherent sentence due to the feeling of his lips trailing over her skin, and the feeling of his fingers grazing her thigh.

The truth was, other than the obvious, she had no idea what he was expecting her to say. Somehow she didn't think screaming at him to fuck her silly, was the answer he was looking for.

His lips continued their torturous path down her neck as he nipped at her collarbone, and muttered, "If this is to work, we need to be honest with one another."

"I mean…I don't know?" she stammered nervously, sure that things were about to come to a screeching halt. Ana, while having a very healthy imagination, had very little practical experience to actually draw from. She had kissed, and even sort of 'made out' with a guy before, but that was about the extent of her sexual experience with another actual person. Vibrators, on the other hand, she could wear the batteries right out of those fuckers.

He pulled back slightly to look at her, studying her face for any sign of uncertainty, but he found none. The realization hit him then that she hadn't answered not because she didn't want him, but because she truly didn't know what she liked, which could only mean...

"You don't know as in you need to think about it, or you don't know as in-" he repeatedly slowly before she interrupted him, blushing clear to the roots of her hair.

"I've never done this before. Any of it…. _ever_."

This was it. She was sure he that he would rip up that contract she had just signed, and kick her out of his penthouse.

He swiped a hand over his face and stepped away from her, leaving her feeling slightly bereft.

"Jesus, Ana…I almost…. _fuck_." he swore, dragging his hand through his hair as he paced in front of her.

 _Was he angry?_

"What must you think of me?" he said suddenly looking up at her with a pleading expression.

She stepped closer to him, wanting to let him know that he hadn't offended her, or upset her in any way; quite the opposite actually.

"Mister Grey…" she started, and noticed his slight wince at her overly professional use of his name, and quickly said again a bit more breathily, "Christian…."

His eyes snapped up to hers with a feral glint, and she knew she had his attention.

"I want this… _I want you_."

Before she could say anything more, he lifted her off the floor effortlessly, and backed her up against the wall, his lips crashing into hers desperately, her legs moving up to wrap around his waist as he pinned her to the wall with his hips. She moaned into his mouth as she felt his hardness nestled between her thighs, and her arms wrapped around his neck of their own accord, pulling him closer as she shamelessly rocked against the huge erection that she had been fantasizing about all afternoon. It didn't take long for stars to explode behind her eyes as she felt herself start to come.

"Fuck, did you just _come_?" he asked in awe, looking at her in wonder.

"I…I think so." She admitted sheepishly, still trying to catch her breath.

He chuckled low in his throat, pleased at how responsive she was to him, "Christ I've barely even touched you."

She blushed in embarrassment, and covered her face with her hands. He quickly pulled her hands away, and kissed her in a way that she could only describe as tender, "Don't be ashamed, Anastasia, knowing that I do that to you turns me on more than you know." He said running the pad of his thumb over her lips.

He pulled back from her again, adjusting himself with a slight grimace before motioning her to follow him.

She was expecting him to lead her over to the bed…or maybe the shower, but when he led her over to the dining table, where the food tray was sitting; she felt a pang of disappointment. It must've showed on her face, because he let out a deep chuckle.

"There will be plenty of time for that later. Now we eat."

She had to admit, the food smelled good, but she would much rather have _him_ as the main course.

"I imagine you must have questions." He said off-hand as he lifted the covers off of the silver containers to examine the food.

 _Questions about the mechanics of sex?_ Penis goes into the vagina. Nuff said. She'd known that since fourth grade when Jose tried to explain to her where babies came from.

"Uh…" she started to say before he continued, "I know this contract may be a tad… _unconventional_ , but I hope in time you'll grow accustomed to it."

Oh, right…the contract.

"Could I just…?" she said as she pointed over to the papers that were still stacked neatly on the edge of the table.

He understood that she wanted to have another look at the contract, even though she had already signed it.

"Of course" he said politely as he handed it back to her, and poured her a glass of sparkling water that had been delivered with the food.

She took the papers from his outstretched hand, and began to read, absent mindedly accepting the glass of sparkling water and taking a sip as her eyes more closely scanned the pages.

' _ **The undersigned shall agree that compensation for services rendered will be left to the discretion of the contractor, and may be sexual in nature**_.'

Anastasia promptly choked, as the words on the page that she hadn't bothered to read until now registered in her brain. She had the thought herself earlier, but it had been a joke. _Sort of_.

"I'm a _prostitute_." She deadpanned.

Christian snorted, "Hardly. I'm not paying you for _sex_ , Anastasia."

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, "Oh? Then what exactly do you call this, Christian?" she asked, gesturing to the contract.

"A mutually beneficial relationship."

Ana gaped at him, as he took a bite of his perfectly cooked steak and chewed thoughtfully. When he finished chewing, and swallowed, he dabbed his mouth politely with a napkin, and went on to explain, "You see, you will be living with me, and I will be taking care of all of your needs; clothes, cars, anything you need. In return, you will be providing me a service-" when she looked like she was about to interrupt, he held up his hand to stop her, "Massages."

She arched an eyebrow, and bit back a smirk, "But it says here that compensation may be sexual in nature"

"Yes, well, massages make me horny. Consider it a tip." He smirked back.

She hoped he'd be giving her more than _'just the tip',_ and she chuckled, not complaining in the slightest about reaping _those_ particular benefits.

"So you are certain this is what you want?"

She bit her lip, knowing she would have a hard time explaining to Kate why she suddenly had to move in with her new boss, but fuck it…she'd deal with the consequences later.

"Absolutely, _Mister Grey_."


End file.
